


Watch My Back

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Related, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, S8E18, season eight related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 00:46:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: Danny worries he’s about to fall down a familiar hole. So he asks Steve to watch his back. Which isn’t exactly the role Steve has in mind for himself....





	Watch My Back

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, the beauty that was Alex’s directorial debut! Of course, it would have been nice if there was a Steve and Danny scene in there, but those fabulous circular scenes at the end with Danny were a treat—leaving Brooke again, colliding with Rachel again, and it struck me that he’d see that pattern, and it would worry him. Worry him that it would bring back enough memories that he’d wind up in Rachel’s bed again. And of course he wouldn’t want that, so he’d ask Steve to help keep him from that....
> 
> (I’m still behind on the show, so please, no spoilers past this episode, thanks!)
> 
>  **tiny warning** : The episode, in case you haven’t seen it, is about domestic violence. So in this story, there are references to that.

It brought back so many memories. As soon as he’d realized it, realized the timing, realized the context... he’d felt that slide, that pull, the dangerous gravity, inevitability of it.

Leaving Brooke for a second time had been hard enough. But then he’d seen the way Rachel had looked at him, and, well. Fuck. He’s not immune. And he’s already suffering. Been suffering, if he’s honest. Which he’s not about to be (honest, that is). But that damn off the shoulder top, really? Danny hates women’s fashion. Feels like it makes him dizzy with the way it jumps back and forth. Because that look seems to remind him of their early days together, and he’s certain she’s not doing that on purpose, because she just follows the trends, but how can he tell? And he is determined. Fucking so determined, not to fall back down the rabbit hole with her. He can’t do that again. For the kids’ sakes, if nothing else. Because he’s finally got to a place where they can be in a room together without him feeling like spitting fire.

He needs help, is his point. And, where does Danny turn when he needs any kind of help? Well.... Yeah. You begin to see the problem....

So, it’s Sunday night, and Danny’s dropped Charlie back at Rachel’s, having spent the whole weekend with Charlie, his mind running in the background the whole goddamn time some kind of _Huh, Rachel’s still got this power over me_.... Knowing he can’t fall again. Knowing he’d regret it in the Never Get Over It kind of way. And knowing the only person he can tell, the only person he trusts—and here he almost throws up, because of course that person used to be Matt, but the only person now his baby brother’s gone, the only person who can have Danny’s back in this, is Steve.

Just to be clear. This is the same Steve who has, for nearly eight years, been seemingly on the verge of pushing Danny over some kind of edge himself. Who has occupied far fucking more of Danny’s waking thoughts than is strictly safe for a “friend” to occupy. Who has saved Danny’s life more times and in more dramatic ways than Danny’s saved his—and that, given the plane-on-beach landing thing is saying a whole goddamn lot. The same Steve who sits far too close. Hugs a little too long. Looks far too much, far too intimately, far too often... for _just friends_. The Steve who has half of Danny’s liver... and probably more than half his heart.

And admitting that, Danny thinks, as he sits in the Camaro, just at the top of Steve’s thankfully long drive, admitting that is doing crazy things to his heart. Because Danny is not willing to admit any of those things to Steve, because there is this really big part of Danny that knows Steve’s never gotten over Catherine and never will, and Danny does not need his heart shattered over any more rocks, thank you.

But he does need help if he’s going to avoid falling down this hole. And the only person who can save him is Steve.

So, basically, he’s fucked.

But there’s only—like so many times in his life so far and that’s just perfect, but there’s only so much he can do, only so many options he has. So, he drives down to Steve’s, gets out of the Camaro before he can start to doubt himself, and he lets himself in with his key, like he always does.

He knows what Steve will be doing. Is doing. Is always doing at this time on a Sunday night. And that’s only partly because he often comes by Steve’s after dropping Charlie or both kids back at Rachel’s. Partly it’s because he’s _there_ most of the rest of those Sunday nights, and that should say a lot more than it feels like it does.

Steve will be sitting, feet resting against Eddie, Longboard in hand, bowl of pretzels at his side, watching something Danny can’t believe a former Navy SEAL has any desire to watch. Something about war, something about secret services, something about infiltrate and destroy.

And maybe that’s just perfectly fitting for Danny’s mood, for Danny’s purpose. Because, in essence, he’s going to be asking for special services. He’s going to be asking for a whole lot more than he should. More than he’s ever asked Steve before—well, of anything like _this_ , anything not involving actual special services. Anything involving his heart. And Steve’ll do it—Danny doesn’t doubt, not even for one moment, Steve’s willingness or ability to help Danny out with this. And, the thing is, probably he should. Because _one_ of them should see that Danny asking Steve to keep him from falling back in bed with Rachel is missing the whole point. But Danny’s going to ask, and Steve’s going to say yes. And probably, very probably, one or both of them is going to regret it.

After Danny lets himself in he heads directly for the kitchen where he grabs a beer, then kicks his shoes off and sinks heavily onto the sofa next to Steve, who lifts his arm so Danny can fall against him. Once Danny’s settled, with a deep and overly dramatic sigh, Steve’ll pull him close and hold him tight. They’ll stay like that for maybe twenty minutes or so before they relax a little bit, drift a bit apart, still touching but a little more subtly. They’ve done it that way for a couple years now, their Sunday evening post-dropping-off-the-kids comforting routine. Danny used to imagine it was mostly for him, but he thinks somewhere along the line it became a necessary thing for Steve as well. As it is, it’s the most physical attention either of them gets more often than not, so they stick with it, unquestioningly.

Tonight, Danny doesn’t move to pull away after the usual twenty minutes. Part of him wonders how long he’d have to stay like this before Steve moves—or questions him as to what’s different tonight.

Thirty minutes, evidently.

“Did something happen tonight, buddy?”

Danny almost laughs. Almost. But he doesn’t. He sits back from Steve, who seems suddenly reluctant to let him go, which almost keeps Danny from telling his story, for some reason. But it doesn’t. When he’s finished, and totally unable to read the look on Steve’s face—any of the looks on Steve’s face, the whole time he’s been explaining about Brooke and Rachel and timing and things repeating themselves. When he’s done, he sits patiently, waiting for Steve to say something, anything.

“Why are you telling me this, buddy?” His voice is softer than normal, more tentative than normal, and something about it makes Danny’s heart ache a little bit.

“Because I can’t let myself fall for Rachel again, and I’m afraid that I will, because that’s what I do, isn’t it?”

Steve swallows. Closes his eyes for a bit, like he’s thinking. When he opens them again to look at Danny, there’s hurt there that Danny wasn’t expecting to see, and it throws him.

“Why are you telling _me_?”

He’d assumed Steve would get it, understand what he needed—someone to know, someone to be able to tell, someone he could text, call, lean on.... Someone to help get him through this next while when it’s going to be hard, so he doesn’t lose his nerve, doesn’t give in to what would be too easy. He’s puzzled, to be honest, and maybe a little hurt, that Steve doesn’t seem to intuitively get what he’s after. Matt would have known, right away, probably without any words from Danny at all. He’d have known that look in his eyes.

Danny starts to try somehow to explain it to Steve, but the hurt in his eyes just deepens, so he stops. He’s suddenly got this overwhelming need to comfort Steve, and he doesn’t understand that at all.

“Look,” Steve says, as though sensing Danny’s a little lost. “I’m glad that you can come to me with anything, alright? I’m honored that you think I can help you fix this. And, I will do anything you think I can to help. Always. But you have to understand, this one might be a little hard for me.”

He says it as though Danny will know what he means, and that starts to make Danny angry in that way you get sometimes when someone’s assuming that you know something that you _don’t_ , but they won’t explain it to you, because they think you’re being intentionally obtuse.

Danny hates that.

But the last thing he wants right now is Steve thinking he’s mad at him, so he takes a while to cool his thoughts before he tries to talk. As he takes a few deep breaths, he finds himself flailing a little bit over interpreting the look Steve is giving him, because he doesn’t recognize it at all. And that’s something that nags at the back of his mind in a really odd way, because Danny knows Steve’s expressions—all of them. He has this catalog of them, has from early on. Steve’s always been very easy for Danny to read. He remembers how it used to impress Chin, but Danny knows there’s really nothing to it, because Steve’s usually all right there, right on the surface, ready for anyone to understand. But tonight, Danny realizes there’s more there, something deeper than the surface. And as he tries to unravel that, he wonders if it’s been there before and he’s just missed it. If he’s been too easily swayed by Steve’s surface expressions, his loudly presented emotions, to notice deeper layers sliding by unnoticed.

He’s starting to really worry about that, when Steve gets up and switches off the TV then heads to the kitchen to grab them both another beer. When he walks out of the kitchen, he nods to the back, and Danny, somewhat reluctantly, gets up to follow. Probably sitting down by the water, which is what he’s guessing Steve’s after, probably it will help clear his head. But it also precludes comforting touches, and that makes him unaccountably anxious.

They settle into their usual chairs, and digging his feet into the still-warm sand _does_ soothe Danny’s nerves, and the breeze helps, it always helps him to think more clearly, and the soft sound of the waves on the shore is reassuring and relaxing, despite all the years he’s tried to pretend otherwise.

He knows the move outside was at least as much for Steve as it was for him—Steve always moves towards water, if he can, when he feels uneasy. Danny figured that out long ago, and it usually alerts him to the fact that something’s going on in the big guy’s thick head. Tonight he’s maybe a little too occupied with what’s in his _own_ thick head to wonder very much at the contents of Steve’s mind... although it occurs to him it might be easier to work out Steve’s thoughts than his own.

“It just makes me uncomfortable,” Danny sighs, after a few sips of his beer. “That longing I felt, to protect Brooke again, to be the guy who treats her the way she deserves. And I know that was most of it—I know we wouldn’t have ever been anything but rescuer and rescuee to each other, and that’s part of why we broke it off in the first place. But there _is_ something real there, you know? Some deep pull. Maybe it’s a version of why I became a cop in the first place. Wanting to save people.”

He’s expecting Steve to agree, to acknowledge his understanding of that, but when he looks at the expression on Steve’s face, recognition is not one of the things he sees. He’s not really sure what he sees, but he knows Steve is not with him on this, and, alright, that surprises him. A lot, actually.

“Do you really not get that?” Danny finds he sounds a little too surprised, a little too incredulous, and he cringes, tries to steady his voice. “Only... I figure, that’s a pretty typical thing....”

Steve sighs and make a face that Danny can’t name. “Of course I’m familiar with the concept, Danny. But no, that’s not what it’s like for me.”

And now Danny’s genuinely surprised, and Steve’s clearly amused. Which at least is slightly more comfortable territory for them both.

“I don’t think the military would be doing a very good job if it let a bunch of people with savior complexes out there. It’s different. It has to be. It’s about being part of a larger thing, it’s about fulfilling that role, being part of the team, being part of the whole. It’s not personal, it can’t be.” He pauses, and smiles a bit sadly. “For you as a cop, and this one especially—domestic violence, god, especially that. It’s more intimate. And okay, it wasn’t great protocol on your part, Danny, getting involved with a victim. But I do get it. I can see how it could happen... especially when you were a rookie.”

Steve’s scolding him, he realizes. And it’s not like he doesn’t know it was dumb, very dumb, that he let himself get so involved in that situation. He wonders if _disappointment_ isn’t part of the swirl of emotions coming off of Steve that he’s not feeling very familiar with. Not like he hasn’t disappointed Steve before. But never about work. It feels different, he realizes. And right on the tail of that revelation is the sudden awareness that he very much does _not_ like the feeling.

“It’s not like it was a pattern.” He feels like he’s defending himself, which of course is because he is. “I knew I could get in trouble, and I wasn’t proud of it. And I was careful to never do it again. But we deal in _people_ , Steve. And people are not so easily objectified. Emotions get tangled, it’s the reality of our jobs. We helped each other, Brooke and I did, and okay it wasn’t by-the-book, but I did save her from him, even if I had to bend the rules to do it... and that was one of the more important things I’ve done in my career.... And, honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Truthfully, he didn’t even realize he felt that strongly about it till he said it out loud, but he sees now that he did feel that way, still _does_ feel that way. And it gives him a little fighting fire he probably didn’t need, but it’s flowing over him now regardless.

“Danny,” Steve’s softened in response, and that’s something Danny wouldn’t have anticipated either. “You don’t ever have to explain yourself to me.”

“It kind of felt like I did need to, though.”

“Not because of me.”

Danny’s not so sure about that, but he lets it slide, and they sit there for some time, in an awkwardly growing silence, until Danny feels like he can’t stay quiet any longer.

“Alright, so you don’t get why I did what I did, and how that felt, how hard it was to walk away from her, either then or now. But do you at least get the other side of it? How stupidly easy it was, after that, to let myself fall for Rachel.... And, why I’m afraid it will happen again?”

He feels like a jerk for pushing it. Because of course Steve isn’t going to get that. Steve would never allow himself that kind of... what, weakness? Danny thinks he sees it coming before Steve even opens his mouth, and he feels his anger building up again, and he hates that. He’s beginning to regret sharing any of this with Steve, and that’s doing some really frustrating things to his insides.

But then Steve starts to speak.

“Yeah, Danny,” comes that soft, slightly rough voice, laced with hurt like Danny can’t believe. “ _I get that_. I get finding yourself colliding with someone and not being able to help falling for them. I get feeling like someone walked in to your life at just exactly the right moment to steal your heart. And I get worrying, constantly, about being on the edge of failing to keep control of it, worrying that it won’t take much to find yourself pushed over the very precarious edge of dealing with that person on a regular basis, and never knowing when your resolve will fail you and you’ll find yourself falling, failing, and falling... and doomed.”

There’s no way that’s not the longest speech not involving explosives he’s ever heard from Steve and he kicks himself for that flippant thought as soon as it’s half way out because there’s no way it isn’t completely shiningly glaringly painfully obvious what Steve means. _Who_ Steve means.

And suddenly it all makes so much sense, and oh god he’s such an idiot, did he really not get it? Is he that oblivious? How could he have been so stupid. It’s not like it hasn’t been right there, staring him in the face. It’s not like he didn’t _know_ on some level—on many levels. He just didn’t think Steve would ever....

Steve won’t meet his eyes. He’s pulling at the beer label, and looking down at the sand, and it seems likely that he’s not really breathing, but he’s doing his best to look as though he didn’t just confess what he did, didn’t just admit what he did, didn’t just open his chest and lay his heart out on the beach for Danny to... to what? To stomp on? Surely he doesn’t think.... _Oh, but he does_. He doesn’t think there’s any way Danny could return those feelings. He didn’t confess this out of some kind of _hope_ , that’s not what he’s done at all. He’s confessed it out of desperation, out of confusion and hurt and fear.

Finally he looks up, gives Danny an awkward, crooked grimace with a bit of a shrug, like he’s apologizing for it. As though he has anything to apologize for. Well, other than keeping the truth of that to himself for more than seven years.

Danny regrets, now, that he didn’t give Steve more credit, that he didn’t take his too-closes, too-longs, too-intense-lys more at face value. That he didn’t ever push them further, that he didn’t ever trust that there was more to them. Because it’s so obvious now that there was, and part of him thinks he always knew that, on some level. It seems impossible now, not to have known.

And then Danny sees why. Realizes with that slowly-being-drenched-in-seeping-cold kind of way precisely _why_ Steve’s never done more than look too much, hug too long, sit too close. Because somehow those things are safe, somehow they’re allowable, and maybe those things were all a little too far over the line because that was all Steve thought he could ever have. Because of who he is, because of who Danny is, because of who they are together. And maybe, just maybe this whole getting old thing has some benefits after all. Maybe being close to retirement was always going to be what it took.   

“You know what,” Danny says, slowly, holding Steve’s gaze, he hopes with enough intent to keep him from looking away. “I take it all back. I’m not going to need you to watch my back on this one.”

He knows Steve’s going to take that badly, take it the wrong way, and he briefly regrets that, but he falls to his knees in the sand in front of Steve’s chair, takes the bottle away from him and sets it down next to his, tugging on Steve’s hands until they’re nestled firmly in his own. Steve’s looked away from Danny’s eyes—he’s fixated on their hands. Because that’s not something they usually do, the hand holding, grasping really, and Danny’s holding on tight, probably too tight, but he needs that connection, that force, that grip, to get him through this.

“But I _am_ going to need you to do something else for me. Because my partner is an idiot, and I’ve just found out that he might be in love with me, and I know that’s going against about seventeen kinds of protocol, and _I_ don’t care about things like that but I know _he_ does, so I need to ask your permission to kiss my boss, and hopefully, hopefully, if that goes well, I’m going to need to ask your permission to date him. And I know you think that will make work awkward and you will worry it will affect us on the job, but I’m going to ask you to trust me on this one thing—and I don’t ask for that a lot, you know. But I am going to ask for _this_. Because he’s an idiot and he’s never going to ask, he’s just going to let me sit here like a clueless jerk and worry about something stupid that is so totally blown out of the water by the realization that my best friend loves me too, and I just don’t even know what to do with myself and Jesus Christ Steven if you don’t kiss me soon I’m going to have to punch you or some—”

Fortunately, Steve’s a fucking phenomenal kisser, because Danny was seriously starting to lose it towards the end there.

“Permission granted,” Steve whispers when he lets go.

“Yeah?” Danny grins. “For which part?”

“All of it.”

“You sure? You think you can trust me?”

“I don’t think I have much choice.”

“Good. He’s going to be so thrilled. Thank you.” Danny stands, trying not to grimace when his knees crack. “Also, do you think it’d be okay if we were late for work in the morning? Because I really want to let him know right now, and I’m not sure how he’s going to take it, so I might need to convince him.... And also he has some explaining to do, because he’s been holding out on me for almost eight years....”

“Danny.”

“What?”

“You can stop.”

“No, I don’t really think that I can....”

“I should never have told you.”

“Oh no you don’t. You’re in enough trouble as it is. Don’t you _ever_ dare say that.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he lets Danny pull him up, and Danny’s not at all sure why it’s taken him till now to realize there’s a full moon directly above their heads, and somehow that makes their second kiss even more amazing, and part of Danny wants to savor that, to keep enjoying it, to make the absolute most out of this moment, but the other parts of him really want to get off the sand and onto a more horizontal surface, preferably one with pillows and things, because this height difference is not going to be easy on his back or Steve’s, and he hopes he somehow conveys that in the kiss, and he must, because Steve breaks off and says “Yeah, why don’t you guys come in late to work tomorrow. Get this all worked out first. Be sure you do it right.”

“Oh god, there’s a right way and a wrong way?”

Steve smirks, and Danny thinks probably there’s nothing for it but to see where it goes, and yeah, there’s not much choice about it now, not now that it’s totally obvious those looks really _were_ too intense for “just friends,” and those arms around each other _were_ more than friendly. And Danny’s really glad that his lines are blurry when it comes to the emotional stuff, and yes, he _is_ going to worry about Steve’s less bendable lines of protocol and regulations. But Danny figures he’s got enough fight in him when it comes to it—he’s already proved that—so he’s not going to worry too much about it. Especially not when Steve kisses him like that.

So they head toward the house, and Danny makes them wash their feet off, and they might linger for a bit on the lanai, Danny’s back pressed up against the side of the house, Steve leaning so heavily against him that it almost hurts but it feels so goddamn real he doesn’t mind at all because he needs that pressure, the near-pain to break through this mess of revelations and confessions and just finally-making-sense of all of this, of _them_ , of the past too many years... and it occurs to Danny to wonder if there wasn’t some small part of him that hoped, when he was sitting at the top of the drive, if there wasn’t part of him that just a little bit hoped that maybe _this_ would be Steve’s answer, if he asked. If maybe he didn’t ask, not because he didn’t trust himself with Rachel, but because it was an excuse for him to finally push Steve and see if there wasn’t more behind those looks after all. A safe way, maybe, to test the waters. He feels a bit annoyed with himself for it, but it makes sense.

“Are you coming back to this kiss, or have you checked out, buddy?”

Steve’s pulled back, and Danny realizes he’s cold from the loss of full body contact. But he knows he needs to say something, because he knows it will bother him, if he doesn’t.

“I think there might have been part of me that wondered if telling you... well, if maybe that wasn’t a test, almost. To see how you’d react. I mean, I didn’t _think_ of it that way, but I wonder if that’s not what was really going on for me tonight....”

He won’t get that, Danny figures. The sort of unintended manipulativeness behind the thought, but Steve actually grins.

“What, ask me to watch your back to make me show my hand? Yeah, part of me wondered if that wasn’t what you were doing, but I didn’t dare let myself hope.”

Danny doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so he pushes himself against Steve, letting his body weight rest totally against him, and it feels like such a relief, he sighs. Steve lets him rest there for a bit, but then he steps backwards again, slowly, waiting to catch Danny if he doesn’t decide to stand on his own, which he does, reluctantly. Steve holds out his hand. “If you’d care to join me....” And he walks slowly backwards as if he’s gentling Danny into following him, which he thinks probably he is.

Once they’re in Steve’s room, Danny for his part doesn’t doubt anymore that they’ve, both of them, been wanting this for too long. Because they take each other’s clothes off as though they’ve practiced it in their minds too many times. They run their hands over each others’ bodies as if they already know how it will feel, as if they already know the bits they’re most after. Danny’s drawn to that part of Steve’s upper arm that’s just out of sight when the sleeves of his too-tight tee shirts ride up and show off the bottom parts of his tattoos. And Steve’s got a fascination with the part of Danny’s collarbone that he almost shows when he wears his collar up or leaves the next button down undone after a long day. Of course they have lists. They’ve been watching far too long for that not to be the case.

It seems, too, as though they’ve got some kind of intrinsic sense of what parts of their own bodies their partner hasn’t realized they have a fondness for yet. Steve seems surprised that he enjoys the feel of Danny’s ass beneath his hands as much as he does—but Danny’s not at all surprised by that, which in itself kind of surprises him.

“You like my ass....” He whispers between kisses, as Steve keeps running his hands over it, not grabbing, but seeming like he wants to.

“Kind of like you like my chest....” Steve points out with amusement, and it honestly hadn’t caught up with Danny yet, but yeah, he sure seems to be fascinated with the shape of Steve’s pecs, with the hairs there, the heat coming off him, and it startles him, to have that pointed out.

“I wonder what else I like....”

And Danny’s barely got the words out before Steve shows he’s full on determined they both find that out. Maybe it’s a bit rushed, and maybe it’s not fast enough, Danny can’t honestly tell, it’s frustrating and it’s not close to satisfying enough, and he needs more and it’s too much. And maybe it’s the emotions, or maybe they’re just exhausted, but they fall asleep right away after, in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, and when they awake a few hours later, it’s like a fresh start, and they know, somehow, exactly what they want, and they take it easily, and it’s satisfying in a way Danny’s not entirely sure it’s ever been before. And maybe that’s just because it’s Steve, and in some sense, it’s always been Steve, and he starts to regret not having pushed before, not having dared. Steve evidently reads the look on his face all too plainly.

“You can’t blame yourself for that. I’m the one who drew all those lines, before you even had a chance to think anything about it. I knew, right from the beginning. This was what I wanted with you. And I knew I couldn’t let that happen. So I let myself take as much as I could, thinking like an idiot it would be enough. And sometimes it was. It was better than nothing.”

“Is that why you were so upset when I told you about Brooke? To learn that I’d crossed a line like that already?”

“Partly.” Steve sighed. “I mean... yes, I have taken you for a by-the-book kind of guy who wouldn’t have a relationship with your partner, so yes, learning you had a relationship with a victim, that stung, I guess? But I have my own issues about that particular protocol. Team members having relationships isn’t something that’s gone well, in my experience. And the team is always the more important thing. I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to the team, because of me, because of what I wanted.”

The prevailing reaction in Danny’s mind is along the lines of _Yeah, but we’re not at war_.... But he knows to say that to Steve would be a mistake, so he keeps the thought to himself, though it stays with him, he’s not really sure why. Instead, he tugs Steve closer, rubs comforting circles on his chest, and when he feels him start to relax, he whispers that he understands what Steve means, of course. It always would have been next to impossible, for this to work. But they’re almost done now, they’re almost out, almost retired. And somehow that will make it okay. He gets the sense Steve’s listening more to his touches than his words, but he’s lulled toward sleep anyway, and Danny’s right behind him.

In the early morning they wake, and they take their sweet, sweet time. Twice. And just when it’s about getting too close to when they should be at work, Steve puts his serious face on, which considering his lips are red and swollen from too much kissing, doesn’t entirely work, but he frowns in concentration, and Danny’s pretty sure where this is going, and yeah. Steve wants to—no, probably _needs_ to—tell the team. Right away.

Danny tries to point out that probably, really he’d be shocked if they were shocked, and possibly some of the team even thinks they’re already together. But Steve... it’s like he’s not even hearing Danny’s words. He’s almost got that sense Danny sometimes does of Steve slipping back into SEAL Commander Mode. That super-serious face, that’s where Danny thinks it comes from, Steve reverting to his Navy officer-in-charge persona. And there’s this slight prickling of apprehension at the back of Danny’s mind—not that Steve wants to tell the team right away, Danny couldn’t care less about that. If they are going to do this, it’s only fair on the team. But there’s something about the way Steve’s holding himself, something about how he’s breathing... and Danny can’t put his finger on it yet, but he feels himself go into high alert anyway.

Steve calls Lou, tells him they’ll be in late but they’ll have a team meeting at noon, and they’ll bring food. Danny can’t tell, from watching Steve, how Lou might be responding, but he thinks he has an idea just the same.

When Steve hangs up, he looks over at Danny, a slightly awkward tentative smile on his face. “Lou says they’d better be the good sandwiches. You know which ones he means, right?”

Danny rolls his eyes. Yep. Leave it to Lou to use this—because Danny’s certain he’s guessed—to get those fantastic sandwiches. “Fine, yes. I know which ones he means. We’d better get an earlier start then.”

“We still have time....” Steve says, as he tosses his phone somewhere Danny can’t see it, and that’s just not a good idea, but he doesn’t get to object because Steve’s on him like some kind of deepwater multi-limbed sea creature, and he feels himself being pulled under, down, deep, and he just doesn’t even want to object.

The whole car ride, first to get food, then to the office, Steve has that slightly edgy energy to him. Like he’s building up to something he’s uncertain about. It’s not a look Danny’s seen on him often. Once, when he’d offered to help out with a thing at Grace’s school and he was anxious about “not embarrassing her,” but really not something Steve experiences a lot. Which is, alright, Danny admits it, it’s amusing him, to watch Steve have close to human emotions. Well, maybe warm and fuzzy in his heart more than amusing. But amused and teasing is still his default setting with Steve and that’s not going to shift easily.

When they show up at the office, sandwiches and chips and drinks in hand, the team is gathered, in an orderly fashion that Danny thinks indicates Tani took charge, in a circle of chairs in the main room, table for laying out food off to the usual side.

All their faces are sporting similar expressions. Expectant, trying to look like they don’t know what’s going on—at least, that’s how it seems to Danny. He takes his seat, but Steve remains standing. He’s practically bouncing with suppressed energy, and it takes a lot for Danny to not try and hold him down.

Steve somehow manages to stumble, awkwardly, through words that convey that he and Danny have started a relationship but this changes nothing within the team and for now it’s just between them.

Danny alternates between watching Steve, who is doing this adorable thing with his hands, wringing them, and the team, who mostly avoid looking at Danny, not out of any embarrassed anything, but because watching Steve be vulnerable like this has got to be a compelling thing they don’t want to miss any moment of.

When Steve finishes, there’s silence, and for one split second Danny almost begins to worry, but then Tani speaks up.

“Yeah, we kind of thought you already were, you just didn’t want to tell us yet.”

There’s nods and murmurs, general agreement from the others. And shock from Steve. (Maybe smugness from Danny, but he tries to hide it.) But Steve’s surprise seems truly genuine.

“You’d really think we wouldn’t tell you?”

Junior scratches at the back of his head, tilting it, like he’s almost afraid to address the topic directly. “It’s not exactly our business, though, is it.”

Steve’s finding his comfort a little more, in their reactions, because now he has a point to argue. “Well, I wouldn’t do that, I think it’s really important to be totally clear about these things, and you all need to be comfortable with it....”

Tani comes to the rescue again: “We _are_ comfortable with it boss, we have been. Just... I don’t know, try not to make out at a crime scene, and I think we’ll be good.”

Danny can’t help it. He’s feeling vindicated. He turns to Steve. “See? She’s fine. They’re all fine.”

Lou, meanwhile, has been silent but thoughtful, regarding Steve with that assessing look he gets when he starts to realize something. Danny loves that look, it usually sides with him. “I think maybe, Steve, that it’s _you_ who’s not fine....” And those weird feelings Danny hadn’t been sure how to translate finally click into place.

“That makes total sense, babe,” he says, getting Steve to sit. “Number one,” he says, and is relieved when Steve finally meets his eyes. “Number one, this is not the Army—”

“Jesus, Danny, _Navy_.”

Danny manages not to smile, but he knows it’s worked, the tension in Steve’s body is beginning to ease. “And number two, it’s not 2010.”

Steve stiffens, but Lou and Jerry both are nodding, and Tani just looks puzzled. “What’s that supposed to...?”

“ _DADT_ ,” Junior whispers.

“ _Oh, right_.”

“You left the Navy before it was okay, and I get that. But look, this isn’t the Navy, this isn’t even the Force. This is Five-0, this is _ohana_... it’s a different ball game, babe.”

“Yeah, plus,” Tani adds. “You’re forgetting the fact that we all thought you guys were already together....”

Danny waves in a gesture to encompass the team. “And there’s that.”

Steve deflates a little more. It’s slowly getting though to him, Danny can tell. But he’s also still resisting something. “As long as if anyone has any issues, they’ll be honest.”

“Seriously, the only issue I’m having is how have you two _not_ been a thing?” Tani stands to go to the food table. “How does that even make any sense? Can we please eat now?”

Steve moves his chair closer to Danny’s, wraps his arm around him. Looks around expectantly, like he’s waiting for a reaction. Junior gives it to him.

“Yeah, but sir, you do that all the time anyway....”

Lou’s chuckling. “You see why the kids have been confused....”

Steve pulls Danny even closer. “Have a sandwich, Lou.”

And Danny’s pretty sure that means he’ll be okay.

It’s not till they’re in bed that night, having made more strides towards making up for lost time, and feeling sated (for now), that Steve brings it up again. He’s brushing the hair back from Danny’s face, and the look in his eyes is so soft, so tender, it makes Danny shiver.

“You really think they’re okay with it?”

Danny allows himself a sigh, brings Steve’s hand to his lips. “Do you really think any of them would pretend to be if they weren’t?”

Steve huffs out a resigned breath. “Yeah, okay, fair point. I guess it might take me a while to really believe it, though.”

Holding back another sigh, Danny instead lifts himself on top of Steve, letting his weight come to rest completely against him, hoping the force of his body will add to the point he wants to make. “Well, in the meantime, maybe just focus on believing this.” And he kisses him.

When he lifts himself off just enough to catch Steve’s expression, he sees Steve smiling.

“Now that, I absolutely _do_ believe.”


End file.
